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Showing posts from July 5, 2013

1997 Called

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It was the summer of 1997. I was driving an ’85 Camaro that was just as much bondo as it was Camaro parts. Much of the summer was spent in that car with my brother and my cousins, driving to Lake George for mini-golf and to the mall for Laser Tag and the movies. The gas gauge didn't work and we had to guess at when it was getting close to empty. We never did run out of gas. I had two cassettes that we used to play most of the time: Summertime by Will Smith and Whoop! There it is. The four of us knew all the words by heart and when we would walk the streets of Lake George, we would sing acappella, badly. The adventures of that summer culminated in August. My cousins had to go home to New Jersey, college started for me, and high school continued for my brother. The last hurrah, if you will, was a concert at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center (SPAC). I was always a loner. I didn’t have a whole lot of friends in school and was incredibly awkward around my peers. However, when I wa